Closed Doors and Thin Walls
by MagmarFire
Summary: One shouldn't eavesdrop on girls' conversations. Groose, Cawlin, and Link learned that the hard way. Skyward Sword. Implied LinkxZelda and PipitxKarane.
1. For Want of Privacy

***crawls into the room gasping for breath* _IT. IS. DONE._**

**Finally! My second ZeLink fic is ready for reading! This thing was nearly two months in the making, so I'm glad I can finally say that it's done and that I don't have to worry about it anymore!**

**If you've noticed that this is a very short story for having been in progress since the beginning of January, then I figure I should say that this was originally being written as a oneshot, but in the end, it turned out to be nearly twelve thousand words in length, which is pretty nuts for a oneshot. It wasn't a decision I made lightly, as I'm fully aware that the transitions in between chapters may not compare as well to stories written with defined sections in mind.**

**That said, the story is completely written and ready for viewing, so you can expect a semi-consistent update schedule over the coming days. (And by "semi-consistent," I mean not nine months long at a time.) But until then, enjoy today's update!  
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><p>With a furrowed brow, Zelda sat on her bed, her hands quickly and dexterously weaving her needle and thread through the half-completed sailcloth she was going to present in only one short day. It was hardly short notice that she was requested to take on the role of the goddess for the annual Wing Ceremony; it was exactly one week ago to the day when her father, Headmaster Gaepora, took her out of class to give her the news of her upcoming representation.<p>

As if she didn't see _that_ coming. Psychic premonition? No, of course not. She was one of the only two girls available since a few of the others have already since graduated to much-coveted knighthood—not to mention the fact that her father just wouldn't stop _talking_ about it.

She by no means hated the news; in all actuality, she was quite elated. How many people got the honor of representing their beloved deity, who had protected them for countless years from the dark unknown? In fact, it was she herself who decided to shake up the tradition a bit by suggesting she make the ceremonial gift herself. Her father was, indeed, surprised by the spur of the moment of her proposition, but he, nevertheless, conceded with a smile on her behalf and no requests to the contrary.

Unfortunately, being the perfectionist that she was, she had chosen to rework the entire thing at least four times already. This being her fifth one, she was maybe only a good six hours in since scrapping the fourth, which lie sadly dejected on the floor on her bedside. "The stitching of the academy sigil isn't right!" she growled at herself every six seconds when she tossed aside her latest cut of fabric and nearly a half-day of stitching work.

An oddity for her, she even had to miss her weekly mandatory sparring session that night. _I'm not sure how I'm going to pass that swordplay exam at this rate…_ she mused with a discouraged sigh. She was happy about the peace and quiet that resulted from everyone else flooding to the Sparring Hall for practice, though. The calming sound of nothing but the kitchen lady's soft humming and the strong, delicious aroma of the batch of hearty stew she was expertly preparing that night managed to keep her spirits reasonably stable; her hand, nice and steady.

To a little bit of her dismay, however, her concentration—and also the silence—was soon broken by the sound of a door opening past the crack in her room partition, the slow, weary footsteps of her good friend Karane, the other of the two girls still yet to graduate, following suit. "Evening, Zelda…" she wheezed.

Turning her head to see, Zelda could make out faint beads of sweat falling from her face; no doubt she had just finished a grueling exercise, something the school faculty never really had qualms with assigning. "Hi, Karane," she replied, happy to finally make human contact for the first time in a while, and, no less, with her roommate (although the academy-standard partition of the girls' territory made that term only loosely accurate). "You look beat."

Karane plopped onto her bed without even bothering to change into less-drenched clothing. "Well, that's Commander Eagus for ya," she acknowledged through broken breaths. "I swear he overworks us sometimes… Stritch even almost passed out during the cooldown."

By the sounds of it, Zelda was now _happy_ that she was able to skip the sparring session for the sake of preparing for the ceremony. Of course, she knew the Knight Commander was just going to chew her out later and hold an extra session for her to make up for it, but…

"And it turns out the bath is occupied _again_! That person's been in there so many times and for so long that I'm wondering if it's a new student that just didn't have enough money for room and board." Zelda shamefully sighed, since she knew all too well who was really in there. She wasn't too keen on admitting it to herself, even; so she tried ignoring the occupancy as much as possible and tried even more to avoid keeping the subject alive in conversation.

Fortunately, it wasn't long until Karane recovered her breath and could actually sit up without feeling like collapsing and complaining about her denial of a relaxing bath. "Still working on that gift for the ceremony, I see?"

"Mm-hmm!" she sung, quite cheerful for someone who poked herself with her needle just now and discarded her nine-hour-long attempt at a sailcloth a quarter-day ago. "To be honest, I've not made as much progress as I thought I should have by now." She held it up to the opening in the partition to show off what she could. It was certainly an impressive effort given the long part of the afternoon; the sigil of the academy, an elaborate, birdlike-crest—true, of course, to Skyloftian culture—was slowly starting to take form in the center of the meticulously-weaved cotton fabric. This time, it was shaping up to be flawless in her eyes, so she could say with confidence that it would be much harder for her to dispose of that attempt.

Karane marveled at the great care in the stitching and nodded in approval as vigorously as her weary head would allow her. "You're definitely doing a great job despite your so-called 'lack of progress.' Link's definitely gonna love to see this."

Oh, yes… Link. Just by that one simply-uttered syllable, her cheeks tinted a bit and prompted her to quickly turn her head toward the unfinished sailcloth in her hand to avoid Karane's gaze. She held her breath, hoping that the sound of the beating in her chest would go undetected. For some reason, she thought that doing that would keep her heart rate within a reasonable level, but ironically, trying to suppress it only ended up making it increase even more.

She couldn't suppress her feelings to the point of maintaining a clear head. Thoughts of the young man flashed through her mind and wouldn't relent, and it was getting harder and harder for her to keep her focus on the present day. Biting her lip, closing her eyes…nothing could keep her focused. To her shame, it was all due to the muttering of a single name.

He was a bit of a strange one, that Link; he spent a lot of his free time just lazing about and, instead of doing anything scholastically productive, would often prefer sleeping and woodcarving. He also had a bit of a flair for sarcasm, which, as one could expect, didn't hold over with some of the other students too well, least of all with Groose, professional bully and perhaps the biggest cause of his problems aside of his own lack of devotion to academia.

But it certainly caught Zelda's attention, in a good way. The two of them were inseparable friends since even before they were enrolled in the academy. Why, back in the day, when the two were bold enough to go off on their own with disregard for the elders' permission and curious enough to explore Skyloft's every nook and cranny, it was most certainly not a rare occurrence to find a certain energetic little girl dragging a half-asleep young boy along with her wherever she went. However, despite the less-than-ideal relaxation potential, the little guy never really seemed to mind.

Her amused father was very quick to learn their "code" of transit. Most of the time, it involved catching butterflies by the bazaar, hiding from the instructors in the academy kitchen—admission allowed only for enrolled students and staff, remember—and sitting by the waterfall at the edge of town, pondering the strange little things like, "Does it rain because there's this great, big waterfall in the sky like this one?"

His personal record for catching them up to no good was probably a not-too-shabby twelve minutes, tops.

The nostalgia washed over her like she had just taken a face full of that cold waterfall, and the increase of flush in her face did not fail to give an alert Karane a playful smirk. "You can't hide it, Zelda," she chuckled. "I know what you're thinking."

To Zelda's dismay, this only reddened her face even more. Her poker face wasn't going to save her now… She couldn't really defend herself or bring it upon herself to deny anything, so she just said nothing and started twiddling with her needle and thimble.

Karane's face was peering right into the partition at this point, her eyes almost intently peering into the flustered underclassman's mind. "Spill it! He said, 'Yes,' didn't he!"

_Oh, this is just embarrassing…_ she moaned in her head. _What am I going to say?_ She went over a few possible responses in her head, but, of course, none of them she thought were even remotely close to satisfactory. "I…" she stammered, hoping to trigger any thought that could get her out of there—the only thing that she could think of, sadly, being just stating it outright. With a nervous breath, she murmured, "…I haven't told him yet…"

Karane frowned, almost like a child looking forward to sunshine but had received a thunderstorm. "You haven't _yet_? I would have thought you did it a couple days ago or something by now."

"Don't worry!" she said with panicked assurance—not a good combination, surely. With a considerably softer, yet quicker and decidedly more nervous, voice, she added, "I was actually planning on telling him during the ceremony…"

With her constant insistence of lowering her voice to make sure no one else was listening, she was becoming too quiet for even her own ears. Amazingly, though, Karane was still able to pick up and acknowledge her woes, somehow. There was a limit as to how much she wanted to actually divulge, so she also began to speak more slowly, careful to avoid the obvious phrases that tended to trap her in the nasty cycle of hide-the-secret and look-natural, which always had her end up doing anything but.

Unfortunately, try as she might to tread carefully, fate had a bit of a…grudge against private conversations, especially in such a tightly-knit community as Skyloft. Peering down from the heavens, a defiant laugh rolling like thunder, it decided now was the best time to have a bit of fun…

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><p><strong>Oh, boy. What could be in store for these two, I wonder? Guess you'll have to wait and see until the next chapter comes out in a few days, then, eh? (Cliffhangers sure are fun, aren't they?)<strong>

**Sorry if this chapter seems short, because it really is. But don't worry-there are about ten thousand more words where that came from, so prepare yourselves! Also, if you like what you see, feel free to drop a line!  
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	2. Not So Random Encounters

**Finally time for the second update! Here's hoping the wait wasn't too long! Thanks again to all those who have given feedback so far****; this wouldn't be nearly as rewarding without you. Also, thanks to my good friend Alpha for beta reading this chapter!**

**Now, then, without further ado, shall we continue?**

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><p>A powerful yawn left Link's mouth while the aroma from the kitchen filled his nostrils. He never thought he'd say it, but that night's session really <em>was<em> the toughest Commander Eagus had thrown at the students this year—perhaps ever. Apparently, _somebody _thought it was a good idea to take advantage of the unusually-chilly night air to assist in endurance testing. No guesses on the general popular opinion on that decision, but at least they were closer to the academy; if anybody were to keel over, medical attention was only a crawl away.

He was so exhausted and achy he could barely move. The only reason his feet even bothered to listen to him was because he knew he couldn't just plop onto the upstairs floor unconscious, especially with the enticing smell of resident cook Henya's food wafting into his nostrils. _Maybe a little bite before I crash won't hurt..._ Only this time, he hoped that he wouldn't wake up to find his face on his plate again.

Practically dragging his hurting feet, he limped toward the stairs, his hand preoccupied with gingerly clasping his empty stomach. Such was the lack of focus in his eyes that he didn't even notice resident bullies Groose and Cawlin guarding the wall as stiff as statues, who perchance believed that standing still camouflaged them perfectly in the darkness. A little chuckle behind him, on the other hand, rebooted Link's senses, and with a swift turn of his head, he caught them red-handed doing…something.

They pressed their ears so heavily onto Zelda's and Karane's doors, respectively, that he was afraid their hard heads were going to bust clean through the clean cuts of oak. Their eyes popped out of their heads as Link's suspicious yet not-so-surprised gaze met theirs.

Groose recovered quickly, though, and countered Link's gaze with one of his trademark scowls. He nonchalantly straightened his pompadour, which, as they all noticed, had considerably drooped during sparring. …Not that anyone would dare point out flaws in his "do" without a willing risk to be flattened with a practice log.

"Need somethin'?" he grunted, walking the fine line between intimidating and quiet enough to remain undetected by any unsuspecting ears. Cawlin would usually take a chance like this to brownnose his way into backing up his "professional superior," but perhaps Link's sudden appearance caught him too much off-guard to instigate his usually-proactive inquiry.

"What are you guys doing?" Link asked, strain in his voice, as if he had already repeated that same question countlessly. Considering all the trouble they both caused, especially Groose if Zelda was in the equation, he might as well have.

Groose's gut sounded a low chuckle as he crossed his arms, now satisfied with the adjustments to his hair. "What? This is a part of the academy, and I happen to be standing inside it. Problem, pipsqueak?" His mouth stretched to both sides of his face, revealing two gapped arrays of teeth; even in the dim light, Link swore he could've seen some premature wrinkles. The smile was…creepy, to put it mildly.

Fortunately, any imminent mental scarring was deterred by a quick shake of his head and a simple mind wipe, which he was quick to pick up and overuse during the course of his academic career. "You do remember that Instructor Horwell barred you two from loitering in the girls' dormitory after the whole pumpkin fiasco, don't you?" he asked with clearer focus, albeit trying to avoid bringing back the painful memories from the prank that Groose and his cronies pulled the previous week.

Cawlin ended his streak of silence and rolled his eyes. "Like I've been telling everyone, that Remlit had it comin'. Besides, Stritch told me the rash is almost—"

Just like that, the memories returned, forcing Link to immediately clamp his ears shut and shudder. "I'd rather not know, thank you very much!" As soon as he saw that Cawlin's mouth was no longer flapping about certain…unspeakables he'd hope to forget soon, he shook off the snag in his head and continued. "What's going on in there that's so important you're willing to risk detention…again?"

Finally, Groose's otherworldly smirk left his face and was replaced by the pompous leer that often meant bad news. "Well, why don't you come over here and find out for yourself?" An odd occurrence for someone as ill-mannered as Groose, he waved his arm in front of the door in a deceptively-genuine-looking offering, complemented by a devious snicker.

Link didn't even have to think about it. He made up his mind quite quickly that he wasn't going to stoop down to their level and eavesdrop on his best friend. Girls did need their privacy, he knew, so he was all too willing to accept that and think nothing more of it. Any guy with some idea of decency lived by that creed.

Of course, he _thought_ that it was an easy decision; but a soft, nervous voice seeped through the door and raised his concern enough to break his code once, just in case, and approach Zelda's door to listen.

_"I was actually planning on telling him during the ceremony…"_

Groose started giggling as if he had just won some kind of huge inheritance from his grandfather or something. It was…quite disturbing, as Link successfully noted through grudging observation. (Creeping him out twice in one night? It looked like a new record.) "What is that, my dear Zelda?" Groose whispered rather loudly—probably just trying to tick Link off, which was quite an extraneous effort, really. "You say you have something to tell me?"

_"But you do know that there's no guarantee that he'll actually win, right?"_ an apprehensive voice hummed out of the other room, where Cawlin was able to pick up without a hitch. Then there was a moment where they couldn't hear either of the girls saying anything. It was almost alarming, since now the only thing they could hear was a lonely cricket chirping somewhere downstairs.

Getting a little nervous himself, Link looked at the others in hopes that either could break that silence, but they remained quiet, as well. Of course, Groose was preoccupied processing what was just said with a prideful scowl on his face that said, _"You're giving me way too little credit there, girly."_ On second thought, Link preferred the silence.

His heart sank doubly when he heard the double doors opening behind him. Groose and Cawlin almost hit the ground running in panic, but as soon as a fellow student wearing a golden-colored tunic stepped inside, an upperclassman by the name of Pipit, they couldn't so much as move, much like when Link first stepped in.

"What are you guys doing up here this late at night?" the older student asked the three in a stern voice that was more-or-less his defining trait…if it weren't his diligence or appeal to honor. Everyone knew he tended to set high standards for everyone's behavior sometimes, but Link knew that he meant well. He was always a good friend to him during his time at the academy, and he, along with Zelda, was the one who pushed him to keep his grades somewhere above water.

"Uh…talking?" Cawlin asked after thinking for a couple seconds.

_Wow. How very convincing_, Link shot at him mentally with a sliver of hope that the message somehow telepathically reached his brain. When no response was given, he gave up on him and almost brought his palm to his forehead, but to avoid drawing attention and risk nasty looks from the bullies, he resisted.

Pipit himself didn't even bother verbally acknowledging the unconvincingness of his stutter, either. Crossing his arms, he decried, "The headmaster will not be happy to hear that you're up on the girls' floor again after what happened the other day."

Cawlin snorted. "Aren't you a little old to be telling on people?"

Pipit didn't answer him directly, save for an irritated shake of his head. "To be honest, this doesn't really surprise me. This isn't exactly the most of what I've seen out of you two." He then turned to Link, who rooted his feet and stiffened his shoulders in surprise. "But this is way more than what I'd expect from you."

"Wait, what did I do?" Link asked somewhat defensively. Surprisingly, Pipit's stern look lightened up and turned into a chuckle fit and a pat on the now-confused junior's shoulder.

"Ah, denial. That does little to ease the suspicion on you when it looks like you've taken Groose's challenge to listen in on other classmates, one of which happens to be quite a _special_ classmate, wouldn't you say? I guess it was only a matter of time you would do this, but…"

"…What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come off it, Link. I know what's going on," he laughed. "The way you two look at each other when you pass by in the hall? How you're spending more time with her than ever? How you two always bring each other lunch? Your tendency to become giddy whenever she laughs? Two plus two equals four, as they say."

Link tried to hold back his bashfulness; he really did—perhaps more than he ever had a decent amount of practice to prepare for it. Before long, the effort only made him look like he had just sucked on a spicy lemon. And what do you know? No words in his mind had mercy enough to grant him amnesty from all this attention. The only thing that could come to him at that moment was a nonsensical statement that Pipit thought had involved pineapples and singing rocks.

Cawlin couldn't help but laugh at his inadequacy to say anything; Groose, surprisingly, didn't say a word, only crossing his arms, clenching his fists, and turning his hardened face away from his rival with heavier breath.

Needless to say, Link was completely nonplussed. _What was he saying?_ So what if he and Zelda had been spending more time together? They were best friends! So what if they smiled at each other without a word when they were on their way to class? Sure, they were the only ones in the academy who did that, but that was normal for friends, wasn't it? So what if her laugh had the power to pick him up from out of a bad mood? So what if they were the only two people who walked side-by-side within only a few centimeters of each other? So what if they liked sitting by the waterfall and watching the sunset? So what if she liked surprising him with hugs? So what if…?

…

He completely forgot where he was going with that. While panicked, he still opened his mouth and actually sputtered a sensical response, however weakly. "It's…not like that…" Sadly, that was all that he could conjure up, and it was sadder still that Pipit's smirk only widened. _I guess that didn't work, _his thoughts groaned in trepidation of the further accusations that would soon follow.

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><p><strong>Oh, boy. They're on to him! Get some more toilet paper! *smack* Erm, sorry.<strong>

**Stay connected for the next update, which you can likely look forward to this Saturday****. ****Actually, you can probably expect an update every three days. That doesn't sound too bad, right?**** Don't be afraid to raise any objections. ****Or, you know, constructive criticism. That works, too!**

**Until next time!**


	3. The Open Notebook

**Well, this is a little late, I suppose. It is still Saturday, technically, but I was intending on getting this out a little earlier, but, you know...pre-release jitters and all that. My good friend Alpha has, once again, helped me out of it, so many more thanks to him for beta reading! (Yes, I realize you're getting sick of hearing this by now, haha!)**

**Now, onward!**

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><p>The two girls didn't mutter a word to each other for what felt like eons. Zelda rattled her brain as much as she could while Karane eagerly waited for an answer to her question, but none came easily for her. She hadn't even thought about it when she had written her plan down and meticulously predicted and calculated all the moves she would make. It figured that only now a spanner in the works would reveal itself to her. It was something she'd completely overlooked, and now she was kicking herself for it.<p>

_What if Link really doesn't win?_ she asked herself as fear gradually clouded her heart and her face. _What if he doesn't win and I have to end up performing the ceremonial ritual with…_Groose_?_ Just the thought of the ridiculous spike of bed head that somehow passed as a hair style made her feel dizzy, and Link's work ethic in regards to flight training had always been more subpar than he could probably afford; _that_ was sure helping the matter a lot.

As much as it pained her, she had to admit to her plan's egregious shortcoming. "…Good point."

"Still," Karane replied, her uncannily-useful rationality in this kind of situation keeping her on track, "don't forget that it's not the end if it turns out he doesn't win. If he has a less-than-stellar performance—and let's face it: He's not doing himself any favors by lazing about—you'll think of something else."

Regardless, Zelda's distinct pout of worry just wouldn't leave her face. "I know, but it's the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Knight Academy, and it's his test for promotion to the senior class, _and_ it's during the same time that I'm playing the goddess… It can't just be a coincidence, can it? Heck, it's definitely more memorable than just going up to him and saying, 'Hey, I have something to talk to you about. Can you see me in the plaza in about ten minutes? Thanks, bye!'"

Karane chuckled. "You know, Zelda, I don't think he'd really mind all that much."

Zelda looked away as she tried letting that sink in, and it only took a few seconds for her to acknowledge her doubt and attempt to dismiss it. "You think so?"

Her roommate nodded. "I'd either have to be blind or in denial to say that I don't. It's clear there's _something_ promising between you two, and no ceremony's going to change that any."

Zelda's face looked like a wine-stained tablecloth at that point, and true to actual wine, she feared it would take a while to return her tint to normal. "Eh…maybe…"

"Oh, come on, Zelda! Everyone can see it!" Karane stopped herself as soon as she realized the ridiculousness of her generalization and almost slapped herself in the forehead for such a hasty oversight on her part. "…Well, almost everyone…"

She was, of course, referring to Groose, and Zelda quickly picked up that part of the nonverbal portion of the message, almost like a mind reader; indeed, she agreed, he was oftentimes so preoccupied with his "awesomeness" that he had trouble admitting when he had dirt on his face.

Karane continued her pause for a moment to read Zelda's response. Aside from a little uncomfortable shuffling in her makeshift workspace, she actually kind of looked like she wanted her to continue. Maybe it was a way for her to open up without actually saying anything. Perhaps she thought that by having others acknowledge the elephant in the room for her, she would be able to more easily talk about it. It was a flimsy hypothesis for her to come to, but a little querying would have revealed quite strong support for its validity. Without noticing any raised objections, she resumed.

"I mean, you worry about his academics, he carves you statuettes, you guys hang out together all the time… I got more examples if you want 'em." She leaned in closer to the opening in the partition, which somehow managed to get the younger student to face her despite her manifest vulnerability. "Trust me; it'll be easier for you to do it if you first admit it instead of going about it like he won't reciprocate unless you tell him in a certain way."

Zelda sighed at this acknowledgement of the meaning behind her plan. She knew she was right…again. Still, the spur of the moment, not to mention the fact that the very core of her intentions was being critiqued instilled in her the insatiable desire to hide under her bed despite her legs feeling like lead. She immediately shrugged off the shame of entertaining the idea to resort to such a childish response, but the metaphorical spotlight in her face was making her sweat.

Then it hit her—an epiphany. Zelda finally thought of a way to escape being the subject of that conversation! She wasn't one to rely on personal tactics to redirect topic focus of something so trivial as a casual talk between roommates, but the reward of no longer having eyes on her was too enticing. "Ah, right. I almost forgot that you speak from experience, don't you?"

And just like that, the situation flip-flopped. She didn't know what happened, but Karane suddenly felt just as vulnerable as she did, if the wide eyes and open mouth weren't any indication—not to mention the audible gulp. The lack of context behind her statement did little to dampen its effects, to boot.

Even Zelda was impressed with how quickly and effectively she threw the subject up into the air and got herself out of any more embarrassing slipups. But even more than that, she was glad that the connotation of her question, the tone of which probably being a bit excessively emphasized, didn't go unnoted.

Oh, no, it didn't. _She knows!_ Karane screamed in her head. _But how! I never told anyone!_ Clearly, it had to have been a baseless accusation, one she couldn't have had a logical chain of ideas that led to it. She covered her tracks and got rid of the evidence when she needed to. How could have Zelda found out?

"Uh…what are you talking about?" Karane asked, the façade of ignorance, however, about as transparent as a clean window in the shade.

"I can see your journal from here, Karane. I know what you were doing in class this morning." Sure enough, right across her room was an open diary. From a typically-serious student like her, one would normally find detailed notes of biological nomenclature or maybe a mathematics theorem or two—a school notebook, basically. That day, however, none of those were to be found; instead, there was nothing but a nice, colored doodle of Pipit's face right next to a little heart.

So much for it being a baseless accusation. "You _looked_ at it! ?" she exclaimed, her breath nearly gone; her heart, down to her feet.

"You were sitting in the row in front of me," Zelda deadpanned. "Judging by how your quill moved, I was sure you were going to set your section of the desk on fire. It was kind of hard to not see what you were doing."

Based on Zelda's tone, she realized it wasn't very likely that she was exaggerating too much. She couldn't have been drawing that furiously, could she? She was sure she was being low-key enough and that people would just assume she was taking notes. But then again, perhaps it wasn't that great of an idea to bring an extra couple bottles of ink to class—bottles of colored ink, actually, which were expensive and, frankly, impractical compared to regular ink. "Ah…well…" she mouthed while nervously fiddling with her hat.

A calm hand from the now-invulnerable Zelda silenced her and, hopefully, reassured her. A smile forming, she said, "I don't blame you. I knew you expressed initial interest in him years ago, and other than today, you did do a pretty good job of sneaking it by everyone."

Then Karane sulked, no longer messing with her headgear (for one, the static in her hair was starting to get on her nerves). "At this point, I wish I hadn't…" she muttered weakly.

A combination of her recent commendation and the low volume left Zelda confused and quite concerned. A quizzical squint from her side, complemented with a slightly-raised eyebrow, urged the upperclassman to continue.

"It's just that…" she resumed, trying to ignore the trip in her words. The lack of coherence in her train of thought was, from what she could see, making it hard for Zelda to follow, so with a few frustrated pauses in between tossing out garbage words to help her collect her thoughts, she eventually formulated her intended message. "I think maybe it's worked a little too well."

"How so?"

Deep down, she knew the answer, but once again, the words wouldn't come easily for her. In many ways, she really was in the same situation that Zelda was now in. She, too, planned gutsy, almost-zany schemes to try to get Pipit to notice her; however, for the sake of keeping things under wraps, that was the extent of what she could actually do—plan, not execute. Her fear of the weird looks and the imminent rumors spreading like wildfire and all the other relationship-related school matters kept the breath from ever leaving her lungs; her cries for help, from ever leaving her head.

In fact, she wondered how she was even able to help Zelda's situation at all; the latter was way more suited to the situation than the former and was fully able to build the courage to carry out the plans she so-carefully constructed. The best she could do was to continue her studies and act as if there were nothing wrong at all.

With her time in school running shorter and shorter as graduation approached, she feared she'd never get Pipit to notice her. That was the bulk of the problem, after all. They were friends and all, sure; but at times, it seemed her feelings toward him were as polished glass—clear; invisible; and, thus, fragile. _He_ never seemed to notice her almost-advances that she, indeed, tried to resist a good percentage of the time. She was quick to assume the same thing applied to everyone else, including Zelda, the one person whom she would usually trust with situations that desperate but, for some reason, couldn't utter a single cry for help until just that night. It was a spiraling nightmare that, instead of scaring her into eventually caving and asking for that help, only increased her anger at herself.

Karane conveyed this as best as she could with the state of mind she was cursed with and cringed in the anticipation of some kind of blank glance or perhaps a short burst of giggles or two. To her surprise, she was met with quite a bit of encouragement, the blank glance revealing itself to actually be another one of Zelda's trademark smiles. "I don't think you have anything to worry about," she said. "It's hard, but I know you can break through that barrier. I've been there."

"You have?" Karane asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Oh, yeah!" Zelda said with a cool and collected hand wave accompanied by a tone filled with the implication of empathy. "People gave me and Link strange looks all the time. They still do, even. The trick is to look the situation in the eye and firmly declare that you just don't care."

She wasn't exactly surprised that the troubled redhead would find her advice disappointing. In a sense, she was reluctant to say anything _because_ of the expectation that any advice she'd give her at all would be unsatisfactory. She couldn't just keep her hanging, though.

"One way you can do this," she resumed, practically pulling stuff out of thin air at this point, "is to look at yourself in the mirror and chant, 'I want to go out with him. I want to go out with him.' Rinse and repeat!"

To Zelda's delight and, admittedly, astonishment, Karane didn't look disappointed this time. She put her palm to her chin in thought, a little habit of hers that everyone picked up on but that she herself never noticed doing, and wistfully questioned, "Is that all?"

"That's all," Zelda answered with gusto—but still with a small twang of uncertainty. Being deep in thought, Karane, fortunately, wasn't tipped off to the slightly-corrupted tone and, instead, responded brightly, all the weight seemingly removed from her shoulders.

But then they snapped their heads as a muffled voice burst from the walls that separated them from the cold exposure of the foreboding academy corridor. It was full of panic, almost like someone was being pinned and wrestled against, something like what Groose or his cronies would do when no one was looking—although there was definitely no auditory sign of a struggle. However, they recognized the deep, somewhat-dopey-sounding voice as that very same Groose.

What was he doing in the upstairs corridor that late at night? What was he doing in the upstairs corridor after they _explicitly_ complained to the higher-ups after his little "project" last week? Not even a few days into it, and already someone was breaking the rule of avoiding the upstairs hallway after dark. Knowing him, it couldn't have been a good thing.

"Don't tell me you didn't hear that," Karane piped irritably behind door-piercing, glaring eyes. Zelda responded in earnest, all too willingly expressing her newfound vexation for the young man with the ridiculous red hair.

Oh, someone was going to pay, alright.

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><p><strong>Looks like the guys have been caught! ...Or have they really? Who knows? It's hard to calibrate readers' temporal senses with all of the POV switching in-between chapters.<strong>** Still, I hope you look forward to the continuation next Tuesday!**

**Also, congrats to silverheartlugia2000 for catching the NintendoCapriSun reference I made in the last chapter! (I'm actually kinda surprised someone would notice. Glad to see someone did!)**

**...And finally, a big shout-out to FF(dot)net's text parser, which cuts out my interrobangs for whatever reason, much to my dismay. Rock on, man. Rock on.  
><strong>


	4. Caught and Dragged

**Well, this is quite a short one, isn't it? Sorry 'bout that, folks. At least you aren't getting this one late. More thanks to Alpha for continuing the task of beta reading for this one!  
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**Anywho, let's continue where the boys left off!**

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><p>"…What?" Link finally asked, his wits still eluding him in light of the pairs of eyes trapping him in place. In particular, Pipit's leaning toward him with a nigh-unbreakable stare was beginning to scare him just a little bit. It had never made him want to run away screaming before, either; but there was a first time for everything, he supposed.<p>

"That kind of excuse is long expired, you know. In fact, it's been used so much that it might as well be the same thing as saying, 'I admit it!'"

Most of the faculty, who had the pleasure of observing him since before he could form complete sentences, would probably agree. He did use that excuse a lot over the years, even more so over the past few days, in a clearly-futile attempt to maintain the status quo of his relationship with Zelda, or besought lack thereof. With the onset of adulthood, relentless fantasies of the two of them together turned through his head like pages in a storybook. While each scenario twisted his stomach with the bittersweet feeling of deep longing, it also made him violently shiver with dread.

Still, regardless of wherever his thoughts and feelings fell on the spectrum, he was all too often quick to shake his head and ignore them. If he never thought about them, he often told himself, it would never happen; then, he would never have to worry about complicated romance and family matters. They could live a simple life and just be friends. _Yes… Just…friends…_

Link wasn't sure whether or not Pipit was trying to get him to personally admit something about himself to better express it. Probably, it was a way to unclog his mental pipeline so his feelings would no longer have to remain bottled in. He appreciated that much, at least. But at the same time, he thought it just as likely that Pipit did it out of the sheer enjoyment of getting as many silly, helpless-looking faces out of him in quick succession as he could. It was quite unbecoming of him to be paranoid of that sort of thing, least of all from someone like Pipit, one of his most-trusted friends. Perhaps it was all a matter of that day's accumulated fatigue and hunger and the little voices in his head resulting from the former.

When Link, once again, couldn't defend himself, Pipit shook his head and sighed. The prosecution was to finally rest, as it were.

"Okay, fine!" Link finally said when his frustration from the lack of empathy around him finally burst from his nostrils like a whistling teapot over a bonfire. "Believe what you like! It doesn't change a thing."

With that little outburst, Groose shushed him and timidly looked around and listened for any more passersby. A few seconds passed before he decided the coast was clear. Charged with a breath of relief, he turned his attention back to Zelda's door and continued listening in, but not before glaring at the source of the outburst with an unspoken, _"Do that again, and I'll toss you off the island."_

Pipit's strange and intense means of extracting information, not to mention him enjoying every second of it, completely blinded him from his surroundings. All that the silent threat really did was remind him that Groose and Cawlin were still there and were yet to be dealt with. The soon-to-graduate senior, while clearly amused at the sudden display of his seldom-encountered forgetfulness, decided that enough was enough. "All right, you two!"

_Oh, boy,_ Link mused behind a smirk. _Here comes the ol' Pipit "commander voice" again._ As every student knew, he meant business when the "commander voice," as Link affectionately named, was being brandished. It was every unprepared rabble-rouser's nightmare to pompously stomp around like nobody's business, only for the chivalrous do-gooder to smack them with the ultimatum like it were a military whip. The confident audacity in his voice made it all the more effective, not to mention satisfying when the elicited responses ranged from a simple twitch of the eye to a full-on, submissive flinch in the weakly-disciplined.

"Tell you what: If you beat it right now, the headmaster won't know about this." The voice was working its magic, all right—but sadly, most of the effect was on Cawlin, who looked about ready to cower into a fetal position and start rocking back and forth. Needless to say, he acquiesced with only a few ignored grumbles; Groose, however, stood there with crossed arms and nary even an eye twitch.

Arguably, the only twitch noticeable was on the edge of his lip, which bared a few teeth dulled by the half-lighting. "You think you can bribe Groose out of hearing his fair share of gossip about yours truly, do you?" he chuckled, which was a distinct noise all on its own for the students at the academy. All of a sudden, Link realized that somewhere on that floor was a wall just _begging_ for a few quick smacks from his forehead.

Gracefully shaking off that laugh's rage-inducing properties, Pipit didn't let up. Of course, all he had to do was motion toward the headmaster's office a few meters away. As per usual, judging by his unwavering smile of confidence alone and his aloof, high-chinned and -chested stance, Groose was calling a bluff; however, there was a slight tic in his eye that gave Pipit enough of an excuse to keep pushing that same button.

He turned around and stepped unusually slowly and quietly toward the headmaster's office, closed off from the rest of the building by two doors carved from old, discolored mahogany. The closer he got to the doors, the more twitches Link could spot on Groose's mug, until his face was almost having a seizure.

He couldn't stand it any longer. Pipit was really going to do it! "_All right! You win!_" Groose bellowed as a knuckle stopped inches from the wood. _"Don't tell the headmaster!"_

The elder slowly turned toward the will-broken bully and chuckled to himself, satisfied with the fruits of his work. He strode back over to the others (in their eyes, it was practically skipping) and resumed his hardy stance. "Now, then," he said, "I think we're all on the same page now, so why don't you—?"

He stopped as soon as voices reached his ears. Angry voices. Angry _female_ voices.

_"Don't tell me you didn't hear that."_

_"Oh, I heard it…"_

The boys, frozen from panic and fear, could only slowly look at each other when they heard the fateful voices coming from the walls. They had neither the courage nor the mental faculties to say anything. They knew what they were in for; both of the girls had the eerie ability to make the guys feel utterly shamefaced whenever they did something out of the bounds of social decency. If the girls, having had their feathers ruffled, ever got on their case, it could be likened to ripping tape from their faces: It had to be quick and painful.

They heard the sound of heavy footsteps from behind the doors coming their way. When the source was almost at the door, not even Groose or Cawlin could control their legs. Almost in a flash and as quietly as they could, they fled the scene, but not without giving one last shove to topple the other two students over.

"Later, suckers!" they heard Groose say one final time before the fiery tip of his pompadour disappeared from view. Cawlin followed suit with a wail that sounded almost like crying. As funny as that would have been otherwise, Link and Pipit couldn't bring themselves to laugh and dig their graves even deeper than they were already.

They struggled to escape their small pile on the floor without making much noise, but obviously, it proved to be much more difficult than it looked, given the absence of equanimity and lucidity on their part. And, sadly, by the time they could get up onto their feet and leave, the girls' doors opened simultaneously, revealing two glaring women, ready to pounce.

Clearly, it was a good thing neither of them had to use the bathroom then.

"Pipit!"

"Link!"

The feeling of the glares cutting their skin like burning knives felt like the real thing. Their faces tensed with fear to where neither was able to see their noses in front of their eyes, let alone the two aggravated girls standing just barely outside their rooms.

Perhaps to lessen the gravity to a bearable level, Link summoned what strength he had to overcome his fear-based throe and lightheartedly asked, "Hey, what's up?" Of course, the overly-chipper tone in his voice—due, of course, in no small part to his lack of composure—only made things worse. If he'd had control over his feet, Pipit would've probably kicked him, if only lightly, to show his disapproval. He'd sooner kick himself for allowing Groose to heap his deserved punishment back onto him, though.

Little did Link know that it would lead Zelda to rush up to him, pull him to his feet, and drag him into her room. Karane eyed her incredulously as she did this, even in spite of her mutual feelings toward her male classmates. The fierce look in Zelda's eyes quite adamantly said, _"Don't you worry; I got this taken care of,"_ so she trusted her friend enough to at least not to _kill_ the poor guy. However, whatever Karane was to do with Pipit was now officially out of her jurisdiction as soon as she quickly closed her door. Link could've also sworn he heard a _click_ and shivered at the sight of the small form of a key entering her pocket. Perhaps he was hallucinating from the spur of the moment and the hunger, but he couldn't be sure.

He only knew he was trapped.

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><p><strong>Next time on <em>Closed Doors and Thin Walls<em>, Zelda vs. Link! Place your bets, everybody!**

**Sorry once again for the shortie; the next one should be considerably longer for you (and it'll be released on a special day, won't it...? Hehe...). Believe it or not, I was thinking of moving some content from this chapter to the next one to change the ending, but that would've shortened it by about 12%. As you can see, I've decided against it. I mustn't have you guys waiting patiently for laughably-short chapters, after all. Not to say this isn't laughably short, but...**

**Bah, I've droned on long enough. Until next time!**


	5. Sleep o'er a Promise

**Happy Brawl Day, everyone! Are you enjoying the festivities?  
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**What does this have to do with _Zelda_, you ask? Absolutely nothing at all! (Except sort-of maybe quite a bit, considering it's _Smash_, but eh.)** **But still, let's celebrate _Brawl_'s fourth anniversary with an update, ****why don't we!**

**You know the drill; many thanks again to Alpha for beta reading!**

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><p>With the door locked and no possible means for her prey to escape, Zelda slowly turned to face Link, whose shivering form could've rivaled that of a dog that picked up distant thunder. She looked up at him with stern eyes, the likes of which quickly ebbed as she absorbed Link's apparent vulnerability. His quivering, stiff stance told all; were he given a quick poke on the shoulder, he could've toppled over unconscious, looking as rejected as the now-useless sailcloth revisions scattered all over the floor.<p>

The sight amused her greatly, to put it lightly. She never took it upon herself to find enjoyment out of Link's open display of weakness, however rare they were, but the look of his turning away to avoid her gaze and nervously rubbing the back of his head completely melted her resolve and softened her eyes.

The reason why was on the tip of her tongue, but she just couldn't stay mad at him. Her insatiable desire to whack him upside the head left just as quickly as it came. _Would a guy this cute and innocent really violate my privacy that way?_ she pondered, almost losing herself as more memories of him stirred in the recesses of her mind.

When her heart suddenly skipped a beat, though, and she actually realized what she was thinking, the logical wiring in her brain rebooted at last. She coughed nervously in the hopes of fighting back the blush that was threatening her and rebuilt her stern face as much as she could.

But she was getting nowhere; with her mouth frozen and her blush _still_ refusing to concede, she defiantly ignored her logic once again and turned aside, becoming Link's mirror image in posture and demureness. The silence that thinned the air of all of her confidence nearly tortured her, but that didn't keep her from distilling her tongue and inadvertently making the situation just as arduous for him.

Of course, Link's situation was similar: Zelda focused so intently on her involuntary facial "red flag" that she couldn't leave any spare attention to his own. He himself was trying a lot harder than she was to make at least a little noise to dampen the awkwardness, although aside from his sincere, almost phobic aversion to getting chewed out, he (like everybody else that night, it seemed) couldn't find the courage to speak.

He couldn't even risk a glance at her without his chest tensing. It was too captivating to see her pulling off her Skyloftian dress—quite standard casualwear that time of year, however expensive the dark greenish-blue fabric must've cost—too well for her own good. The loose shoulders in her silky-white top were quite the temptation for his gaze, indeed, yet they allowed for long sleeves, nicely cross-stitched at the wrists with cerise thread, to elegantly flow down her sides and give her the air of a graceful dancer. The hand-woven black-and-green sash wrapped around her waist was a particularly-nice touch; in his eyes, it pleasantly accentuated her figure while still modestly concealing it—a respectable combination, if he could say so himself.

He had to admit the brown leather boots were a little strange, though, but the tension from mentally perusing the rest of her attire, regardless, made him feel like Stritch force-fed him butterflies and coerced him still to stare at the intricately-carved wooden Loftwing statue sitting on her desk. Without the dignity-preserving luxury of a fear-sober mind, he had little motivation to overshadow the mellow crackles of the lantern nearby with another abysmal defense.

"So," Zelda finally spoke after two minutes of tapping her feet and twiddling her thumbs, "what did you hear?"

By some miracle, or perhaps the gentle tone of her voice that contrasted with her forceful pull out in the hall, Link re-poised himself and turned to face her, though she herself, for one reason or another, instead chose to study her bedside. "Not much."

"So you really _did_ eavesdrop?" Her voice tensed quite a bit, accompanied by a small grimace slowly seeking his gaze. The more she was able to see him, the more Link could see a premature glare forming, but by then, it was still just a pair of weary, cerulean eyes hoping for an answer antagonistic to what she was expecting.

As much as it saddened him—and, subsequently, scared him—he couldn't give her such an answer. He emotionally prepared himself for the mental beatdown he was soon going to receive and said in little more than a whisper, "It was only one thing you said, so I thought if you were ner—"

Zelda, her suspicions, sadly, confirmed, faced him head-on, all of her impetuses for dodging his eyes completely forgotten. "Oh, you _thought_, did you?"

Link winced and bit his tongue in anticipation. _Here it comes…_ he thought sourly.

"When a girl's in her room, _what_ do you suppose is the number-one thing that she asks for?"

Link said nothing out of the nagging fear of it being a trick question, which he knew was her favorite form of rhetoric.

"Privacy, Link," she said when her patience ran dry. "Privacy. Do you know what that entails?"

"Um…" he croaked, rubbing his head.

"_Not listening in on her private conversations._"

Link wasn't sure then if it was because of her paranoia of the questionable sound-drowning ability of the walls or of her personal protocol, but even in such an unusual situation as that, there was no hint of screaming or yelling of any kind. She'd been mad at him before, attributed quite consistently with a flushed face and puffed cheeks, but after the fact, she'd always say how much she hated yelling. The poor girl's voice, as lovely as it sounded when she sang a tune when she thought she was alone, was delicate to both match her looks and trade off for her actual physical ability. (One needed good upper-body strength and balance to have decent control over his or her Loftwing, after all.)

Her adamancy of keeping her voice at least emotionally manageable here was no different. As agitated as she was, she was at least doing a commendable job of downplaying it through her tone…even if her adorable pout was getting him dangerously close to a heart attack. Despite this, he bit the bullet and hoped his face didn't reflect it. "Y…yeah…but it was Groose and Cawlin who were the ones who were completely eavesdropping."

"And you _played along_ with them! The people who've given you nothing but grief all your life!"

With recoil, Link pressed his hand firmly in his face. _Nice work, self. You just made yourself look even guiltier._ He added to the sigh count of that night with an additional one saturated with lethargy and just a little thirst. "No, no! Pipit and I were trying to get them to leave!"

He could feel her aura of anger subsiding gradually with that single sentence, in response to which he added _another_ sigh, but one of relative relief. However, something still didn't feel right with her…

"Well…" she retorted, biting her lip. "…Okay, I'm glad you did that for us. But you still eavesdropped, didn't you?"

If there ever was a reason for him to hide it from her any more strongly, he had completely forgotten it by then. "Just a little bit, yes…" he answered softly with a slow lowering of his head. "But you sounded nervous about something, so I got concerned, so then I… I'm sorry."

Zelda couldn't stay mad at him anymore. In what was almost an out-of-character moment for her, she disregarded her stubbornness and submitted. _I guess that's what happens when you don't give someone the benefit of the doubt, _she thought with that bittersweet feeling of committing oneself to a code of graceful conduct after a debate.

Oh, but she wasn't going to let him know about that, no. It was then that she had an idea—a truly sneaky idea that came to her with a sly smile. "All right, then, Link," she chimed with a tenor of surrender in her voice. "Since you only wanted to show concern for my well-being, I might be able to forget this little thing ever happened—if you make me a promise."

"And what would that be?" he gulped. Zelda's smile widened, and so did his apprehension.

"Tomorrow morning, bright and early—meet me in the courtyard outside the Statue of the Goddess before the Wing Ceremony starts."

Link probably should've seen that coming. As she was the one who took upon herself the duty to get him up in the morning when he didn't show up for breakfast (which was probably around three times per week, and sometimes twice per day), it was only fitting that she'd ask him for a "vacation," so to speak. As much as he wanted to pay off the sleep debt he had accumulated over the past couple days, he didn't have the nerve to refuse her that one favor.

Still, he frowned in dejection for the sleep he wouldn't be paid anytime soon. "How early is 'bright and early,' exactly?"

"Ten o'clock."

_Well, great._ He probably should've considered it fortunate it wasn't, say, before dawn; most students still would've considered sleeping a few hours past sunrise a godsend, but for him, it was much earlier than he would've liked on a day that, aside from the ceremony, was essentially a day off for everyone. No classes, no homework, no sparring… Nothing but the sweet, sweet unconsciousness he was missing already.

With her terms finalized, his shoulders drooped even more, and all of his emotional downgrades pretty much made him look like a sad puppy. "All right, Zelda," he whimpered. "I promise."

Fortunately, Zelda liked cute little animals. Her maternal instinct getting the better of her, she reached up and rubbed down his messy mat of hair, which was still a little damp from sword training and the nerves he attained in the past few minutes, but she didn't mind. She was just happy that he was willing to sacrifice his favorite hobby for her—and on a momentous day as tomorrow, no less!

"Now, then, Link…" she cooed as she slipped around him and gently put her hands on his back.

_Uh-oh_, Link thought, the hairs of his neck now standing on end. _She's acting weird again!_

"If you don't mind, I need to prepare for our meeting tomorrow." With a magnitude of force that one wouldn't have expected from a girl her size, she hurriedly pushed him toward the door.

"Wait! _Why_ do you want me to meet you tomorrow morning?" he asked as she pushed him halfway through the threshold, his arms trying to cling to the walls to stall her for an answer as much as he could.

But Zelda was a tricky one. She knew how to loosen Link's grip, and all it took was a little tickle on his side to get him to burst out laughing and let up just long enough for her to fling him out into the hallway.

"You'll see!" she giggled before she closed the door and locked it again, before he had the chance to turn the knob in protest. Link tried knocking some more, yelling a little to get her to spill the beans. However, the only acknowledgement he received was a few mischievous chuckles and more "You'll see!"s. After a minute, he just gave up and decided that the only way to find out was to keep his promise and meet her tomorrow morning, all the while still regretting his imminent loss of sleep despite how lucky he still had it.

He was a little embarrassed to find Pipit and Karane standing there and staring at him with confused looks, to which he sheepishly apologized, all the while rubbing the place where Zelda messed up his hair.

"Um…don't worry about it," Karane forgave unconvincingly while turning to face Pipit once more. "All right, then. Glad to see it's only been a misunderstanding. Good night, Pipit."

"G'night—"

As soon as he opened his mouth, she slammed the door, which, as far as they could feel, shook the floor.

"…Karane."

It took them a while to climb over the hurdle of awkwardness sitting between them like a stone wall. It wasn't so much that one's situation was worse than the other than that they lacked a hammer heavy enough to break the ice. Fortunately, it never took them long to get to talking to each other once that initial barrier was breached.

"So, how did it go?" Link asked. He kind of doubted it would be the case, but he hoped that he wasn't alone in having difficulty of quelling a girl's wrath. Knowing the senior's ability to tie words together like a poet, though, he wasn't willing to hold his breath on it, but he still clung to the idea to conserve at least a little self-esteem.

Pipit put a hand to his chin and gave a low, contemplative hum. "I think it went rather well, actually." With his calm and confident voice commandeering the air around them once again, there was no reason to suspect otherwise. By and large, he looked like he held up way better than Link, who was still feeling a little shaky from all the attention given to him.

"How did you handle it?" the junior student inquired with some of that shakiness managing to wriggle out of his voice.

"Nothing special. I told her that Groose and Cawlin were at fault here, not I, and she went with it. Simple as that." The sharp contrast in confidence between the two boys discouraged the younger one. Expect nothing less from facial evidence and fatigued-breath patterns. "What about you?" he returned.

"Eh, let's just say that it involved me making myself look like a fool and leave it at that." Link had hoped his hurriedness would stave off the curiosity from the other, but he just about kicked himself when he found out the hard way that it didn't.

"She called you out on it, didn't she?" Pipit shot with a smirk.

"Well, yeah," Link sighed. "But apparently, she's going to let me off the hook if I promise to meet her tomorrow morning before the Wing Ceremony starts."

"And do what, exactly?"

Judging by how he was yelling it out just a minute ago, Link figured that Pipit already knew the answer, a notion well exemplified by his I-can't-believe-you-don't-already-know-this look and lack of verbal response.

"Well, regardless, you mustn't let a lady wait," Pipit responded in earnest, mostly to get that unorthodox look directed away from him. "You'd do well to keep your promise. I hear trust is good for a budding relationship, you see."

"What relationship!" Link exclaimed defensively, confused once again. Pipit only felt it fitting to maintain his grin as his answer and turned toward the stairs to begin yet another night shift patrolling the academy grounds until his feet were sore.

"C'mon, man! What relationship!"

"Just get some sleep, Link. You won't be able to control your bird in the race tomorrow if you're dizzy with exhaustion." As soon as he had finished his advice and released his distinctive laugh, Pipit vanished.

_You don't have to tell me twice_, he thought. Of course, now the question of what Zelda had in mind was agonizing him. He pondered long and hard about it as he followed Pipit's path to his room at the bottom of the stairs and lightly closed the door behind him. Soft snores from his roommate Fledge sounded from behind their room's partition, and as nice as it was to hear the presence of someone who wouldn't laugh at him at that moment, it didn't do much for the question nagging at him at the back of his head.

Why did Zelda want to meet him early that morning? Why so early? And why was she acting weird to him? …Again? All those questions and more clouded his mind. Try as he might to rattle his brain to get the answers out, all of them taunted him and refused to clear his head.

He lied down onto his bed, not even bothering to take off his boots or even to wrap his comforter around his body. When it came down to it, he was still very tired, too tired to even get that bite of food he wanted to get before that whole predicament started. Perhaps, though, a little sleep would relieve him of his probably-irrational worrying.

It didn't take long for him to completely lose consciousness after closing his eyes. As the darkness of sleep surrounded him, he finally found himself left with a little extra time to ponder his strange, worrying dreams of late—ones of dark beasts, strange voices, and Zelda's heartbreaking screams.

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><p><strong>With that, we've almost reached the end.<strong>** Tune in on Monday for the final chapter!**


	6. It Began with a Letter

**Happy Monday, everyone! Get those yawns and eye rubs out of your system, face the new week with new energy, and enjoy one final update!**

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><p>Zelda had a hard time holding in her mirth, so she didn't try. She was having fun with the whole thing, after all, and with all the work she had been putting into her sailcloth lately, it couldn't have been a bad thing to get her mind off the frustration of her rejected attempts.<p>

But before she could sit herself down to crunch on her final revision in full force, Karane's door slammed shut, causing her to yelp.

"Er, sorry about that, Zelda," her roommate apologized.

As soon as her heart settled down—which was only after a couple seconds, conveniently enough—she accepted the apology and giddily sat down on her bed. Karane followed by reclaiming her spot next to the opening in the room's partition.

"Well, you're in a good mood again, aren't you?" she said, the impression evident in her speech.

The "Mm-hmm!" that followed filled the room with such vibrancy and positive energy that Karane couldn't stop herself from contributing her own laughter.

"So what'd you do? Lecture him 'til he groveled?"

"No," Zelda replied, "but I did get him to promise to meet me in front of the Statue of the Goddess tomorrow morning."

Karane raised an eyebrow. "That's it? You made him promise to wake up early?"

The smile on her face didn't falter as she fervently nodded and bounced her golden hair every which way.

"Link's never going to keep his promise, you know. Expecting him to wake himself up in the morning is like expecting Groose to stop posing in a mirror; it's just not going to happen."

Again, Zelda found herself caught in the brunt of another planning misstep. How many changes to her game plan was she going to have to make until she avoided every fatal flaw? It wouldn't have been so bad if Link didn't condition himself to sleep through the morning bell every other day, but alas…

The corners of her mouth drooped into a brand-new scowl. "Oh, yeah… Good point. Again."

Karane subconsciously adjusted her hat, instantly wishing she controlled her tongue a bit better. "Sorry to burst your bubble so much tonight."

"Don't worry about it," Zelda sighed. "I guess I'm not that good at winging it, so I'm sure I'll think of something. At any rate, I have a sailcloth to finish by tomorrow, so I'll have more time to whip up a plan, I suppose."

Karane gaped at her. "You're not going to work on that all night, are you?"

"I may have to, yeah—but you know, I may not be able to sleep tonight anyway. I'm nervous about the race tomorrow, to be honest."

"Well, someone's gotta be, for Link's sake." On that note, Karane got up and trudged over to her bed. "Don't worry too much about it, okay? Remember, it's not the end of the world if he doesn't win tomorrow. You'll still be able to tell him."

Zelda was very thankful of the support she was being given, even over something so apparently trivial. She smiled, glad that there was someone there to give her a leg up when Link wasn't eligible. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Karane."

The elder student hummed happily in reply as she wrapped herself in her comforter, but Zelda could tell that she was still worried about Pipit, judging by the context of the sigh that followed her chirp.

"And don't worry!" she reassured. "Just do what I told you, and you'll have the courage to go after him before you know it!"

"If you say so," was all she said. She wasn't exactly brimming with confidence, but deep down, she really did want to try it. Perhaps she would begin giving it a shot tomorrow morning…when no one was looking, of course.

Their discussion of the matter finally over, they bid each other good night, allowing Zelda to refocus her energy into her project while her roommate snoozed soundly in the late hours of the night.

She spent the next few hours continuing to work hard on her ceremonial gift, all the while giving her situation plenty of thought. There was little incentive to resist laughing at herself for all the attention she was giving to every little detail in her plan, much like her meticulous decisions of where to next weave her needle.

Thread after thread, she thought more of Link and how maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be able to win tomorrow. In one way or another, that thought would always return to her like a persistent ghost bent on haunting that oft-visited corner of her mind. Her progress slowed while her worry escalated, but the worry diminished when she put more and more of her faith into Link's special Crimson Loftwing. If any creature were to bring him to victory, it would be that majestic red blur of a bird.

Then dreaded thoughts of Groose popped up, right as she got around to hemming the edges. The idea of having to spend the postrace ritual with that pompous, arrogant, pompadour-sporting jerk nauseated her. It was bad enough that she'd have to put up with his hitting on her, but the thought of him getting yet another weapon to emotionally torture Link filled her heart with rage.

_Groose can't win tomorrow. He just can't._

This mindset carried well into her project's twilit moments. However, before long, the edges of the fabric were completely sewn, and she could finally take joy in the fact that, unlike her previous attempts, this one was turning out no less than perfect. The only thing left was the emblem…

What was she going to say to him? If—no, _when_—Link won, that is. How was she going to break it to him, short and sweet? She had been constructing that part of her plan for months—years, even—and not once did she come up with a speech that she was satisfied with. It frustrated her, to be sure, that the perfect moment she had dreamed of for years had hinged not only on Link's victory but also on her courage to finally let her spirit out.

Then Karane's advice came back to her. Why _didn't_ she just tell him? Like she said, she doubted that he would mind if the circumstances weren't as stellar as she was hoping for…but indeed, it would make it harder to do without making it seem out of left-field if turned out to be that way, Groose's easily-inflatable ego notwithstanding.

However, with that final thought, she broke her thread and looked at her handiwork. It was finally done! This year's sailcloth was finally done. Looking at it, she couldn't find a single thing to critique. One could've easily attributed that to lighting or fatigue, but after her accelerated hard work, she wouldn't stand for it. As far as she was concerned, she was _done_.

She got up and folded the cloth as gently as she could, trying to avoid unnecessary creases and wrinkles so early in its lifetime. She tenderly placed it onto her desk and gazed at its splendid form with a wide grin and hands on her hips. _Wow_, she thought, _this really did take me a good part of the night, didn't it?_ Not that she minded too much; the feeling of accomplishment, universally shared by all great artisans of the age, sapped her enervation.

Suddenly, though, she noticed something at the corner of her eye. Her journal was sitting lonely at her desk, patiently waiting for its owner to take time out of her day and recollect. How silly of her! She had been so busy she almost forgot to write her entry for the day. _Time sure flies when you're working hard…_

Feeling sorry for her poor journal, she decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to at least make a start before the day ended. The time didn't matter as long as she completed it before midnight, right?

She sat down and picked up the quill lying precariously on her desk. She frowned at the drops of ink that had dried on the finish but didn't dwell on it too much; it could've been worse. At the least, she forgot about it as soon as she dabbed the ink-stained tip of the quill into her bottle of ink, already half empty despite only a week of use, and started writing.

"Tomorrow's the big day! The Wing Ceremony!" she wrote. "Finally, Link can take a big step toward becoming a knight.

"I can't wait to see him promoted to full knighthood, but I'm a little worried he might have some trouble winning the race. Lately, Link hasn't taken his flight training seriously. Someone needs to make sure he doesn't mess up his big chance!"

…

_Drat._ It was only a couple minutes into her writing until her mind wiped itself clean—whited out, to put it another way. _Writer's block already?_ Separate contemplations in her head, one regarding Link's flying skill and another regarding her own actions to ensure the former could be maximized, clashed against one another. Was she really so confident he was going to lose that she felt helpless to do anything?

Her frustration steadily growing, she daubed her quill into her ink jar anew…and then, an idea hit her. The little, yet major, detail of Link simply sleeping in past the time he promised to meet her…she knew what to do. And the answer was so completely obvious that she wondered why she didn't think of it earlier when Karane brought that possibility up!

"So I've made up my mind," she continued, the words finally coming to her easily after a night of bottlenecked thoughts. "Tomorrow, _I'll_ wake him up extra early and make sure he gets in some last-minute practice, whether he likes it or not." _Yes, that's perfect! If he won't get himself up, I'll just have to get him up for him!_

Granted, that was something she'd done many times over the years, but it was never a chore; one could say engineering forceful awakenings was like a hobby of hers, actually. She'd used smelling salts, pots and pans, nose pinching, water to the face… _What to use tomorrow, I wonder?_ She looked up from her diary and glanced around the room in search of inspiration…and her eyes fell on the Loftwing carvings Link so-lovingly crafted for her.

She could've fallen out of her chair laughing if she hadn't been worried about waking Karane. _My Loftwing! Of course!_ Never had she used her own Loftwing to wake him up by proxy, and it had great promise. The only downside was that she wouldn't be around to see the look on his dumbstruck face, but that was a small price to pay.

Realizing she was falling victim to distraction once again, she quickly snapped herself out of it with a headshake and a deep breath. Her quill scratched the parchment much less furiously than before; the words she was going to write, gone as soon as they came. After a few more minutes of writer's block, all she could come up was, "He has to win, or we won't be able to perform the closing ceremony together!"

There was something about it that didn't feel finished, but by then, her day's long, strenuous labor was finally catching up to her. She put her hand to her mouth in a loud yawn, accidentally getting ink on her face, but she paid it no mind. Her eyes soon drooped, and before long, her head had sunk onto her desktop.

Her worry of Link's performance the following day did not follow her into sleep, fortunately. Instead, the only thing she could see was clouds, a blue sky, and her dear childhood friend smiling at her as they circled around each other and flew alone across the endless heavens— together.

That was her perfect moment.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sure you remember what happens next. ;)<strong>

**And with that, another project comes to a close. Thanks to all of you readers and reviewers for seeing this thing through; without you guys, this wouldn't be even close to worth it.**** Also, one last time, many more thanks to Alpha for beta reading. You made this entire thing about 20% cooler.** **I can't thank you enough, man.**

**Until next time, folks!**


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